


an unpleasant tickle

by catpoop



Series: Sheith Month 2017 [10]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crushes, Emotional Constipation, M/M, Pining, SheithMonth2k17, Unresolved Emotional Tension, keith needs laxatives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 14:44:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11876730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpoop/pseuds/catpoop
Summary: Sheith Month '17 - 15/8: AbstractKeith isn't too sure what these abstract feelings roiling about in his chest are, but they can't be anything good. Especially when they're linked to Shiro.





	an unpleasant tickle

**Author's Note:**

> here take this fic please

The feelings just sort of … pop up, one day. Keith isn’t sure where they came from, and he sure as heck wishes they would disappear sooner rather than later.

“Shiro, stop looking at me. You’re making me feel uncomfortable.” 

The older man looks bewildered, as though he can’t imagine the turmoil currently itching in Keith’s gut. “I – what? Wait, is it something you ate or – or do you need to lie down?”

No, he needs Shiro to turn his piercing grey gaze somewhere else, and fast, or else Keith is going to squirm out of his skin in dry-mouthed nausea. He tells Shiro as such.

“Oh. I guess I’ll stop doing that in the future.” Shiro averts his eyes, but not quickly enough for Keith to miss the disappointed look in his eyes. Something rises in his throat at the thought of offending Shiro, but Keith swallows it down. 

“Yeah. Thanks.” The fuzzy discomfort has subsided a little, thankfully. But not significantly, not when he takes in the way Shiro is casually sprawled on his bed, scrolling through a tablet in a post-shower haze. Keith is relegated to sitting at the foot of his bed, skinny frame curled into the small space Shiro has left empty.

“Also,” he adds, after a moment of contemplation, “can you stop coming into my bedroom?”

Shiro looks wounded. “What –?”

“Makes me feel weird,” Keith clarifies.

Shiro stills, the tablet lying forgotten on his pillow as he sits upright. “What’s the matter? Is there something you want to talk about?”

A heavy arm comes to rest beside Keith, just out of reach. Usually, Shiro would sling his human arm around Keith without hesitation, but he stutters to a halt this time.

“No, I –” How is he supposed to talk about it when he doesn’t even know what’s happening in the first place? “I dunno, I just feel weird and uncomfortable when you’re so _there_.” He gestures at the bulk of Shiro’s body, frowning at the indentations he’s making in the mattress.

“Is it – is it some kind of strange Galran disease?”

Oh. That would make sense. “Maybe – I mean, maybe that’s why my face feels really hot and my stomach feels really weird and –” Keith reaches up to touch his ears. They feel really red. “I – I should go check with Coran. And the cryopods.”

“Your stomach?” Shiro muses. “Did we eat anything strange yesterday?”

Nothing except for green goo, and the usual alien fruits Hunk has a way of magicking into various desserts.

“I don’t know.”

But there’s no point in wasting time when it’s clear this is something a quick stint in the cryopods can heal. Keith rushes off, double-checking in his mind and hoping he’s right in that the Alteans’ sleep cycles start later in the night.

\-----

Coran whisks him back to bed with an express ‘no.’ He’d barely run a scanner over Keith, but apparently the prognosis was, “clean as an Ehrr’na’s rump. Don’t worry, you’re safe from the galumphing glerilds for another day.”

Keith hopes it’s true, but when he slides open his bedroom door to see Shiro still sat there in concern, something very violently begins to galumph in his stomach.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good. So do I still need to stay out of your way?” Shiro’s grin turns hopeful turns anxious.

He moves aside as Keith clambers under the covers, setting the tablet on a side table. Ignoring his obvious presence, Keith tries to curl up and wish the … galumphing? away. 

Apparently he’s stayed quiet for too long, because Shiro leans over and asks in his concerned voice, “Keith?”

“Mm?”

“Do you still feel unwell? Maybe – maybe it’s a human disease that Coran can’t scan for?” Before Keith can respond, he reaches over to touch his warm forehead, humming in concern. “A fever?”

Keith turns red. He scrambles backwards, away from the offending hand. “Stop touching! Makes me feel even worse.”

In front of him, Shiro visibly droops. “Oh. Well, get some rest? I can come check up on you in the morning, or send someone else if you want.”

Keith nods mutely, settling back down once the door clicks shut behind Shiro. He breathes a sigh of relief.

\-----

Come morning, Keith feels like a new person. Until he hears an insistent knocking at the door, and braces himself for the worst.

“Come in!”

It’s Pidge.

“Hey. Boss-man said you weren’t feeling well. Do I need to spoon-feed you breakfast in bed or can you do it yourself?”

“I’m fine.” He isn’t some invalid; he can tackle breakfast in the dining room with everyone else.

“Oh, okay. Well, see you later.” Pidge disappears, and Keith is faced with the task of figuring out just what’s wrong with him. Or maybe he can do that later, post-breakfast.

Shiro stares at him when he enters. And all through the rest of breakfast. Begrudgingly, Keith allows himself to be pulled off to one-side and coddled like an infant.

“Are you feeling better?” 

Keith tilts his head back, staring belligerently up at Shiro. “Uhuh.” Even as he says it, a squirm of discomfort returns, and Keith quickly averts his eyes.

“That’s good.” A thumb smoothes over his (now no longer hot) forehead. “Don’t want you falling ill with some mystery disease.”

Keith gulps. “Mhm.” It comes out a little squeakier than expected, but Shiro doesn’t seem notice.

Once Shiro walks off, he rubs clammy hands over his face, feeling what has to be a hot flush spreading across his skin. There’s obviously something wrong with him, and if Coran isn’t going to tell him…

The first opportunity he gets, Keith tracks down Pidge, hoping her intelligence will solve everything. Once and for all.

“Pidge, Pidge – I need you to solve a problem.”

“What’s up?” She doesn’t look up from whatever tinkering she’s inflicting on the little bot in front of her.

“I think something’s wrong with me, but Coran and the cryopods can’t identify what.”

“Do I look like a doctor?” She asks, but her tone isn’t malicious.

Ignoring her, Keith continues. “Shiro thinks I’ve got a fever, but it only happens when he’s in the room. And my stomach always feels really uncomfortable. And I feel really hot and – is he contagious or something?”

The silence in the room is palpable.

Pidge sets down her tools with a clink when it becomes obvious Keith has nothing more to say. “Really? That’s your problem?”

“It’s serious,” Keith admits. 

“Thought you guys were in a relationship already,” she mutters, before picking up an adequately pointy implement. She pokes his chest. “Go tell Shiro you have a crush on him before he worries his head off thinking you’re sick.”

“I – what?”

\-----

Unexpectedly, Shiro takes the news particularly well. “Oh. _Oh_. Well, that’s a relief – I thought you were seriously ill.”

Before Keith can reply, Shiro pulls him into a rib-cracking hug and noses at his hair. “And I’m glad you like me, because I do too.”

Keith swoons.

**Author's Note:**

> yes i know theyre super dense in this but. whatever
> 
> kudos + comments r very appreciated <3
> 
> @swummeng-geys.tumblr.com  
> twitter: @hashtag_yikes


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